Hoy, Seri, when I call Robaruto-kun a "show-off" I'm merely teasing him. Unlike the other 95% of the class I admire his (and your own) ability to absorb nihongo so easily. Besides, why would I engage in friendly conversation with him if I couldn't stand his usage of japanese?

(and I yelled at you? I don't remember that... ^_^;; gomen nasai.)

Along the same lines... joined the Asian-Pacific Islander Club (read: japanese club) and surprise surprise 60% of the membership is filipino. We were discussing possible fundraisers and came up with stuff from DanceDanceRevolution tournaments during lunch ("but I'm afraid some husky person will break my pad!") to manipulation through annoyance ("let's play some stupid japanese songs really loud in the quad and have them pay us to turn it off!"). The president asked if anyone knew of any traditional games that certain asian cultures partake of. In regards to filipino traditions, I said "drunken karaoke!" Hardly anyone noticed or showed a sign that they heard.

Staying after to mat some of my kinko'd pieces of work tomorrow... but first I'm actually attending the first meeting of the school's GSA now called the Pride Alliance. Someone (small choir major named Sean) was ripping off the club's posters around campus. Justin (pres. of the club and self-declared queen fairy) says that if he does that to one more poster "his ass will be mine... just not in that way."

Ugh... god I feel really bad. Regretting the wrong signals I apparently emitted during the first half of the day. Regretting getting in a pissy mood while at Kinko's because my sister was being indecisive and standing in the very center of the walkway... and the bad timing since dad was in his cocky-pissy-intellectually superior-condescension mood and when we two are in those positions... caution, storm warning.

Fuck... there I go again; I feel that I have to with-hold certain ideas and opinions as to not offend people at the moment whom I know reads this. If I were a complete ass I wouldn't give a rat's ass about what they thought... but that didn't really work for me during elementary school and half of middle school.

....fuck me.... bad memories are coming back again. And can anyone tell my dad to stop playing his fucking guitar? He's not that good at it, and tends to pull it out only to spite me. But if I truly want to start a holy war, I'd show my prowess by playing the piano. Take that old man... and anyone notice that your parents act more child-like than you do? And anyone notice how annoying that is?

I don't like the pretentious art scene that has enveloped Las Vegas. Sure, whats-his-face who does all the slot-machine imagery as a symbol of religious imagery has a really good idea... but he pulls it off with lack-luster fare.